‘I like that pink outfit you’re wearing.’ ‘Thanks.’ ‘Why do you dress in such drab gear all the time?’ Lottie looked down at her hands, rubbing her finger over her bitten-down thumbnail in a circular pattern. ‘It’s a habit I got into. A way of giving everyone the finger about their criticisms of me.’ ‘The press?’ ‘Yes. And the public.’ She met his dark gaze again. ‘I’ve never been the picture-perfect princess like Madeleine. I don’t think anyone’s ever taken a bad photo of her. Every time there’s a camera around I freeze. I feel awkward. I stiffen up. I can’t act natural when I know someone’s looking at me. And of course the press love those caught-off-guard shots without make-up or sweaty from the gym...or stumbling out of a helicopter looking green.’ ‘So you don’t play ball rather than try hard and then get criticised for it.’ She saw something in his gaze she had never seen there before. Kindness. Understanding. She let out a slow breath and another notch of tightness in her chest loosened.
